"I'll find a way to speak to you," Sebastian whispered. "I must return to my own guests now but I'll think of something. Until later, love."
She nodded, looking up at him and praying he'd think of something. A whole sleepless night without the comfort of knowing her troubles were shared with him was not something she could face easily.
The meal was pleasant and Lord Nibley and his sister amiable company but Georgiana's appetite had deserted her. Vauxhall's famous muslin thin ham and a vast array of cheeses and salads were presented and would usually have pleased her greatly. But she could hardly do it justice, though she tried her best to cover her distress. It was a sore trial to have to smile and pretend to be amused when her thoughts were snarled around her wicked uncle and his despicable plans to control or ruin her.
After supper they returned to the paths to wander back to the Chinese Pavilion to await the fireworks. Florence paused for a moment with her brother at one of the stalls to look over some pretty silk fans, but too lost in her own thoughts to stand still, Georgiana continued on, albeit at a slow enough pace that they could catch her up with ease. She was startled then to be approached by a tall, well build man of older years. He was dressed as a Harlequin but the eyes behind the colourful mask were knowing. He had the look of a libertine, once handsome and charming, but now rather jaded and a trifle shabby.
"My Lady Dalton," he said, bowing and giving her a smile that she did not find reassuring in the least.
"I do not know you, Sir," she replied, and made to return to Lord Nibley and his sister but her way was blocked as the man moved to stop her.
"Oh but I know you, my Lady, and I bear you a message from your uncle, the Baron."
He raised his hand, and between his finger and thumb he held a lock of red hair. "Just a little reminder for you," he said with a sneer. "And you may be sure, I remember every particular of our intimate rendezvous, as I have always been blessed with a remarkable imagination."
Georgiana gasped and took a hurried step backward. "Get away from me, you vile creature."
She was given the benefit of a theatrical bow and the man stepped away. "Until we meet again, Lady Dalton," he said, his voice loud as he melded back into the crowd.
Georgiana stood trembling. Oh God, oh what was she to do? She looked around, alarmed as she felt a cold hand touch her arm. A scruffy looking, street boy of perhaps eleven stood staring at her, his brown eyes frank.
"You Lady Dalton?" he demanded, scratching at his thick dirty hair with one hand.
"Y--es," she replied, her tone cautious.
"This is for you then." He thrust a small white card into her hand and ran away before she could ask him anything further.
Her tension left her all at once as she read, His Grace, The Duke of Sindalton, embossed on the fine white card. She turned it over to read the words, my carriage awaits you on Kennington Lane. I will make all good with Nibley. Hurry. S x
Sparing a last, backwards glance towards Lord Nibley and his sister and hoping Sebastian could find a way that they would forgive her rudeness, she ran down the gravelled path towards Kennington Lane.
Chapter 31
"Wherein desperation plays its hand."
Her relief was overwhelming when she saw the tall figure in the black silk domino and mask. One of the footmen wearing the familiar Sindalton black and gold livery stood by the open door of the carriage and she wasted no time in accepting a black gloved hand to help her in.
Once inside the plush confines of the town carriage she let out a sigh of relief as Sebastian climbed in after her and wasted no time in pulling her into a passionate kiss.
Georgiana melted into him, for although her mind was all at sixes and sevens the chance to be in his arms again was not to be overlooked lightly. Yet as his skilled hands skimmed her sides and pulled her closer, she felt a frisson of unease. His lips were warm and soft, tender and yet passionate but ...
She pulled away from him looking up into a face all in shadows.
"Sebastian?" she said, not knowing why she had voiced his name as a question, only that something was wrong.
"Come, darling, Eve," said a silky and familiar voice. "Surely you can tell the difference between his kiss and mine."
A sudden slant of moonlight lit the carriage and fell upon a pair of glittering blue eyes behind the mask.
"Beau!" His name burst from her in horror as she gave a little shriek of alarm and pushed him away. "What is this?" she demanded.
"This is desperation, my sweet temptress," he replied, a note of apology in his voice. "I'm at point non-plus and I've nowhere left to run but France, and I never did learn the blasted language well enough for that."
"You've run mad!" she gasped, reaching over and trying the carriage door and finding it secured. "What ridiculous plan have you formed, you wretch? I demand that you rethink before this goes too far. I'm in the devil of a fix already without you adding to it you ... you black-hearted fiend!"
"Oh, come now, Eve," he said, his voice soothing. "It's not so very black as that. I promise I won't be a cruel husband. You'll need never fear me or think I'd be a tyrant, for I would have you be happy."
"Happy? Good God! Beau, you don't understand. Sebastian has offered for me and I've accepted. If you do this now, he'll never forgive you. Neither will I come to that!" She raged, as her mind ran in circles, wondering what on earth she could do. She didn't believe Beau would ever hurt her, but as he removed the masquerade mask there was indeed a glint of desperation in those usually cool eyes.
He had stilled at the news of Sebastian's proposal though.
"Well, I've wronged him then. He loves you more than he fears his mother's death or madness. I'm surprised I'll admit. But it changes nothing," he replied, dashing all the hopes that Georgiana had clung to as he'd begun to speak.
"It changes everything!" she cried, begging him to understand. "Beau, he's your best friend, and I love him - with all my heart. I will only make you miserable if we marry for I will hate you for this until the day I die."
Beau sat back against the plush interior of what she assumed must be his carriage. The door had been opened ready as she approached and so she had never noticed that the door bore the crest of the Marquis of Beaumont, not the Duke of Sindalton. She assumed the acquisition of a footman's uniform was hardly beyond his scheming either.
"You won't hate me, Eve," he said, his voice bleak. "Oh, I've no doubt you'll despise me for a good while, and perhaps you'll never love me. But your heart is too kind and too open for so black an emotion. Hatred takes a deal of energy and the single-minded kind of devotion that takes more devilry than this to nurture for any length of time. Believe me, I know. You don't have it in you. You'll grow used to me in time, and I promise you I'll do my best to make it sooner. I can be very charming you see, when I put my mind to the task."
"He'll kill you," she said, her voice now trembling with rage but Beau just shook his head again, his long fingers untying the deceptive black and scarlet domino as he cast the silky material aside. "What and throw you headlong into another scandal. I think not."
"He'll certainly never forgive you!" she shouted, thumping the thick carriage cushions in fury. "How can you, Beau? He's your friend!"
He gave a bitter laugh and fixed her with his blue eyes. "He was my friend. Until he attacked me at White's. I knew then things had gone too far. He wanted to kill me then sure enough. But I'd told him my intentions, I'd been clear from the outset and he'd not had the balls to make his move. Too caught up in the sorrows and shame of people long dead to move forward and take what he wanted. To do what you needed him to!" he returned, his voice equally angry now. "Well I'm done playing fair. It's this or I run. I know now I'd never live long enough to see the inside of the Marshalsea even if I chose to bear the shame of it, and I've never run from anything in my life. I don't intend to start now."
"How much do you owe?" she said suddenly. "What amount would clear your debts?"
"Twenty thousa
nd pounds," he replied without flinching. "A pretty penny, don't you think? Enough that five very unpleasant fellows bundled me into a back alley yesterday and held a knife to my throat. They made themselves very clear I assure you. I could pay up within the next fourteen days or I could die."
"Oh, Beau!" she exclaimed, move to pity him despite the situation. "I'll give you the money. Stop this nonsense now. Take me back to Vauxhall and I'll never breathe a word of this to Sebastian. I swear he'll never now. I'll get the money to you."
Beau laughed and shook his head. "You don't get control of the money until you marry, love."
"But I'm under age!" she shouted, suddenly aware that she held a trump card. "You need my uncle's permission, and bearing in mind he's blackmailing me into marrying his brother-in-law, I doubt he'd agree!"
"What's this?" he demanded, sitting up straighter.
"I'm under age ..." she repeated.
"Not that!" he exclaimed, waving the words away as if they were of no consequence whatsoever. "You said he's blackmailing you?"
She nodded and her hand crept to her throat, an involuntary gesture that obviously betrayed her fear as the next moment, Beau was close beside her again and had taken her hand.
"Georgiana, love," he said, his voice suddenly full of concern. "What did the bastard do? Tell me."
She blinked away tears, the drama and the fear of the past day was becoming exhausting, her head ached and she wanted to wish it all away, but that wasn't going to happen. "Baron Dalton, my uncle and my guardian. He wants control of my money and to keep the home he's made his own. The home that I will inherit when I come of age, or I marry."
"So he wants you to marry a man who's under his sway?" he replied, his voice dark with anger.
"Yes." She nodded. "And yesterday he came to the house and Falmouth was gone and the servants were all occupied. I was alone and ..." to her horror she found tears springing to her eyes and covered her mouth with her hands.
"Oh, Georgiana. Love, I'm so sorry." He tried to pull her to him but she pushed him away, angry all over again.
"Well, you're not helping!" she snapped. "He's going to ruin me unless I do as he says. He attacked me and cut my hair and he's given a piece of it to every libertine he can share it with to spread the story that I'm a slut. And you know people will believe it because of the dreadful scandal of my mother and ... Oh!" she shouted, by now thoroughly enraged. "And I was going to tell Sebastian and now you've ruined everything."
Beau snorted. "I assure you I'd have more luck in dealing with this than Sebastian. He's too thoroughly decent to know the kind of people who could end a situation like this, given the right encouragement of course."
She sniffed and looked up at him. "You think you could?"
He nodded, smiling at her. "I know I could. If I had the funds to finance such a scheme."
Georgiana cursed and shook her head. They were back to square one. Unless ... "Sebastian would give you the money you owe, you know he would."
"I'd rather die."
His voice was harsh, and when she looked up she saw his face was troubled, beyond anything she had seen before.
"This isn't just about the money is it, Beau?"
He stared out of the window, not looking at her, and not answering. She took a deep breath.
"You're alone."
He shrugged, a negligent gesture that betrayed the fact that it was anything but. "I've always been alone. Nothing new there."
"You had Sebastian before. Before this began."
"Yes," he agreed, turning to face her. "He's the only one who ever saw past the façade. The only one who realised it was a façade. I hadn't even realised it myself," he said softly. "But he made me see I wasn't irredeemable. I even believed him for a while."
"Beau, you're not irredeemable. I can see that."
He laughed and shook his head. "Nice try, sweet Eve. But you're right. I'm tired of being alone and Sebastian will never forgive me. But we are friends, you and I, and you will forgive me, in time."
Georgiana swallowed, she felt really afraid now. There was a determined note to his voice. He wasn't going to change his mind.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Where do you think?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "Not very original I'm afraid, but needs must when the devil drives."
"Good God," she replied in disgust. "An anvil wedding at Gretna Green. Of all the clichés to endure."
He laughed at her indignation. "I know, Eve, I feel it just as you do. But I promise the wedding night will make up for it."
"I'll kill you first," she hissed at him, but his eyes just glittered with amusement.
"We'll see," he replied, so obviously amused that she wanted to strike him.
"But surely we can't go all the way to Gretna like this," she replied, realising that there had been no valises or anything that might be required for such a long journey.
"We'll stop off at Ware. I have arranged another carriage to await us there with such supplies as we'll require."
"Ware?" she repeated, as the name sounded familiar. "In Hertfordshire? But that's your father's seat? You'd dare?"
Beau laughed, his tone mocking. "My darling girl, it's the least of the dark deeds that have been witnessed under that roof I assure you. Besides, I happen to know my esteemed father is in Brighton for the next six weeks and he'll have shut the house up and taken most of the staff with him. So you see, you need not fear meeting your dastardly father-in-law. I'm afraid he's far blacker at heart than you could ever accuse me of being, so if you were hoping for a heroic saviour you're far off the mark. This might actually be the one time in my life I do something that pleases him."
There was such bitterness and disgust in his tone Georgiana didn't have to puzzle any longer over who it was that he had hated for such a long time. Despite everything Beau was right, he was hard to hate. But if he found a way to force her to marry him, she'd give it a damned good try.
"I'll not do it," she said, her voice quiet but determined. "You can take me to Gretna and stand me before the blasted anvil, but I won't say yes."
"Yes, you will," he replied, sounding weary and just as revolted as she felt. He turned and stared at her, those bright blue eyes glinting with sorrow in the moonlight. "You'll have to, love. For what choice will you have? You'll be beyond Sindalton's reach. Even if he would bear the damage to his own name, I doubt you'd let him ruin himself and any offspring you may have. You're too noble and brave a creature to do that to someone you love. So you see ... I'll be your only option."
Chapter 32
"Wherein our hero discovers a betrayal."
Sebastian strode up to Lord Nibley to find the man white-faced against his ridiculous costume.
"Where is Lady Dalton?" he demanded.
"How the devil should I know?" Nibley threw back at him with surprising violence in his voice. "The last I saw she was stepping into your carriage, you rogue."
"What?" Sebastian exclaimed, too alarmed to refute the accusation.
"I never thought you, of all people, would treat a lady so!"
"Nibley, talk sense man! If I'd taken her somewhere what the devil would I be doing here, demanding where she was?"
Nibley paused and took a breath, giving Sindalton a hard look. "You swear you've not seen her since before supper?" he demanded.
"Upon my honour!" he raged, grasping Nibley by the arm and barely restraining himself from the need to shake him. "Where is she?"
"I don't know, but there's some havey-cavey business going on here and no mistake," he replied, his voice dark with foreboding.
"You said she got into my carriage?"
The tall man nodded, his brow furrowed as he remembered. "Yes, not more than a half hour ago. I thought it was damned odd, but she didn't look to be being forced away. There was a footman in your livery and the man beside her had your build," he said, staring at Sebastian as though he doubted he was being entirely honest. "And he was wearing that black domino mask - though t
he hood was up," he added, as an afterthought.
Sebastian clenched his fists and cursed. "She was desperate to speak to me," he said in a low voice, knowing he could depend on Nibley's discretion. "She said she was in trouble."
Nibley frowned harder and nodded. "She wasn't herself tonight I could tell, I admit I assumed ..." He sighed and looked directly at Sebastian. "I assumed she'd decided not to accept my offer and was wondering how to let me down gently."
Sebastian paused, knowing this was hardly the time but he owed the man the truth. "I've offered for her too, Percy."
Nibley gave him a crooked smile. "Ah," he said, nodding. "Well I can't pretend I'm not sorry on my own account but ... well, I'm glad you've come up to scratch at last. It was clear she was in love with you."
Nibley held out his hand and Sebastian shook it warmly but his face was grave. "But I don't think that was what was troubling her, Percy. I think it was something very serious, and if you believed she was stepping into my carriage, then there is every chance that she believed it too."
"Good heavens!" Nibley exclaimed, and then lowered his voice, drawing Sebastian further away from the crowds. "You mean you think she's been kidnapped, but who on earth ..."
"Wait," Sebastian said as a cold feeling ran through his blood." You said the man was built like me but his hood was up ... to cover his hair."
"Yes, that's right but ..." Nibley's words ground to a halt as his eyes widened.
"Beau!" they said together.
They took off running as Sebastian headed for his carriage.
"I'll go to his place in town," Nibley shouted. "I've left my sister with friends so she'll be taken home. If he's not there I'll go and shake up Falmouth, he seems to know every cut-throat in London from what I hear. He'll have a trick or two to play I'm sure. What about you?"
"He'll head for Gretna," Sebastian said, hollering to his coachman to get moving as they approached. "But he might change at Ware and I may at least get news from his servants."
They both went their separate ways and Sebastian promised himself the pleasure of beating Beau's pretty face black and blue when he got his hands on him.
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